


No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross

by rutherfords (seblaiens)



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Age Difference, Boss/Employee Relationship, Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:43:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9827084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seblaiens/pseuds/rutherfords
Summary: There’s a short silence in the room, then- “Get a girlfriend, Cullen.” He almost gasps. “What?” “It might stop you from looking after the young, pretty mages when on duty in the Circle.”





	

The sun bearing down on the Gallows is harsh every day, but today it might almost be unbearable. Cullen feels as though he’s never sweat a day in his life before transferring to Kirkwall, leaving behind the cold and moist in Ferelden’s Circle, with its old foundation and decaying walls. He’d always felt cold and clammy back then, even when warming himself in front of the furnace. What he wouldn’t do for a Ferelden breeze or a shower of rain right now. Bad weather in Kirkwall only meant even more humidity he can’t handle.

 

He takes off his gauntlets and wipes away the sweat that had gathered above his brows, the sun shining down upon him and making him light-headed under his armour. It’s quite cruel, having to wear the heavy Templar gear and not being allowed to sit down while on the job - they need to ooze confidence, have to be viewed as untouchable, and apparently sitting down in the shade makes them look like weaklings. Cullen would never let Meredith catch him grumble about it, though, lest she thinks he’s not fit to take over the position of Knight-Captain.

 

_“...the Amell girl, Hero of Ferelden or whatever they call her now.”_

 

Cullen immediately stands straighter, his ears burning as he strains to listen to the words whispered somewhere behind him. He’s heard them talk before; the rumour about his apparent relationship with Amell had followed him into the Free Marches, and he wonders if he’ll ever get away from it.

 

_“Supposedly he let her get away with all kinds of shite back in the Circle. To think Meredith trusts a mage fucker…”_

 

He can’t breathe. He should go and tell Meredith that they’re still talking about him, that her punishment of those responsible for dragging his name through the mud did nothing to deter the other Templar’s from gossiping about this _false_ relationship. Cullen swallows hard, his knees buckling beneath him from the heaviness of the armour, his body giving out from being on his feet for hours without a break or just the smallest sip of water. He should go to Meredith, if only so he can move a few feet instead of standing outside the entrance of the Circle - he’s useless here anyway, doesn’t have a clue why Meredith assigned him to the post today. Maybe it’s to keep him humble, he thinks grimly, biting the inside of his cheek. He knows the others think he’s too young to be Meredith’s right hand, choose to see him for what he has yet to learn instead of what he has already accomplished. Most days he can chalk it up to them being jealous - today is not one of those days.

 

_“She must have been a minx if she could get Cullen to pull the stick out of his ass…”_

 

He suppresses an animalistic growl, reminding himself that he has no business defending Solona’s honour. _Amell’s_ honour. Even though he wants nothing more than to turn around and stalk over to the others, tell them that nothing ever happened between Amell and him, he knows the rumours would only get worse. They would talk about how she had him at her mercy even without giving him anything in return -

 

With a shake of his head, Cullen gathers himself and marches over to the others.  
  
“You,” he points at one of the whispering Templar’s, standing up straight when Cullen addresses him, “take over watch. I have to speak with the Knight-Commander.”

 

“Sir,” the Templar nods at him. Cullen doesn’t know his name, but he thinks he might have to find out now, studying the man’s face and trying to memorise him. He’d ask Meredith about his name, make him run extra laps, go harder on him during training until he’d be too scared to ever mutter a negative word in front of Cullen again.

 

The walk to Meredith’s office is short, too short for Cullen to think of what he even wants to say to her. Does he really want to admit that the other Templar’s are still talking about his involvement in the Fererlden Circle, that it’s still a sore spot for him after over a year spent in Kirkwall? He’s not sure it would be smart to come running to Meredith and tell her that the other _kids_ are _gossiping_ about him - especially not if it involves Amell.

 

She’d never asked him if the rumours were true, staunchly proclaiming that everyone who spread these lies would end up in her office sooner or later. Cullen hadn’t said anything - he doesn’t know if she believes her lie herself, or if she pretends for his sake. He doesn’t think he’d even still be allowed in the Order should he ever confirm these rumours - even though he never acted on it, the mere admission of harbouring feelings for one his charges would be enough to ruin his reputation. He would have to make his way back home to Ferelden, try to find a different job. He would probably end up as the farm boy he’d always tried to run away from.

 

A court knock at Meredith’s door and she invites him inside. She’s sitting behind her desk, looking up as he steps in. The littles furrow of her brows shows that she didn’t expect him to step in, which he understands. He should still be on duty, only come to her in the evening to report of any issues if there had been any. There were a lot more issues now than in the first few months of his stay in Kirkwall, and Cullen is scared of what the next was to come next. Meredith is trying her best, he knows, but it seems as though Orsino would block her on every step to trying to figure out a solution to the problems the Gallows are facing.

 

“Cullen,” Meredith says, setting down her quill after finishing a sentence on her parchment, “what are you doing off duty?”

 

Cullen wrings his hands, his mouth dry. He feels so stupid now, running away from his problems instead of dealing with them. He’s quiet for a few seconds, speaking as Meredith’s face turns from confusion onto concern.

 

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says quickly as Meredith opens her mouth, “I just… wanted to ask if I could take the rest of the day off. I’m feeling unwell.”

 

“Of course,” Meredith answers, her voice steady and calculated as she examines him, making him squirm beneath her gaze. “Is it something serious?”

 

“No,” Cullen shakes his head, his hand already on the doorknob behind him again, ready to bolt from her office. “I think it’s just the heat. I’m not used to it.”

 

“After so many years locked up in Kinloch Hold it’s no wonder,” Meredith frowns and Cullen flinches when she mentions the Circle. She’s never shied away from talking about it in front of him; maybe she thinks he’ll get over it easier if they don’t avoid the topic. He doesn’t bother reminding her that he hadn’t been in the Circle for long before it fell.

 

“I think so, too,” he says instead, willing his voice to sound as steady as hers. “I’ll get used to it soon enough.”

 

He turns his back towards her, opening the door just an inch before she calls out for him again. The hairs in his neck stand up and he swallows hard before turning back, scared of further questioning.

 

“Are you sure that’s all?” Meredith asks him, her lips tight, cold, blue eyes fixed on his hazel ones. It’s as though she can read his mind - he can never hide something from her, no matter how hard he tries to shield himself.

 

“That’s all,” he nods, and Meredith dismisses him. A relieved breath escapes him as he closes the door behind him, closing his eyes for just a few seconds and resting his head back against the wooden door before mentally shaking himself and making his way to the room he sares with Samson. As far as Cullen knows, the other man will be on guard duty until late in the night inside the Circle, freeing the room for Cullen to wallow in self-pity for at least a few hours before he has to put on a facade again. He trusts Samson more than any of the other Templars he works with, but there is no need for him to know everything about Cullen.

 

In his room, he takes off his armour and neatly stacks it on the rack next to his bed. He lies down on top of the sheets with a sigh, clad in only his trousers and tunic. He has no idea what to do with his free time, now that he has it. He could read a book, sure, but he doesn’t have anything in his room. He’d have to get up again and make his way to the Circle’s library, but he’s not keen on encountering anybody after his hastily escape. Taking a nap would do him no good either - it’s too late in the afternoon, he’d have trouble falling asleep at night if he were to nod off now. Besides, he doesn’t think he could rest now, anyway. The words of his fellow Templars still echo inside his head, calling him a _mage fucker_ and accusing him of sympathizing with the blood mages who-

 

He doesn’t want to think about it, turns on his side and pulls his legs close to his torso.

 

Solona comes to his mind again, how she found him and how he had begged her to kill him. He’d admitted everything to her, even though she had already known - he hadn’t been exactly subtle about his foolish infatuation, it seems as though the entire Circle had been aware. The thought still makes blood rush to his cheeks in shame, and he tries to tell himself that it wasn’t his fault entirely, that he had been a young boy in love for the first time. It’s not as though Templar training had given him a lot of opportunities to go out with any of the female recruits - and the mages in the Ferelden Circle had been… very _open_ about their activities with each other. Cullen had flushed red any time he had walked into compromising positions between the mages, ordering them to part but never punishing them.

 

He’d never walked in onto Amell with anybody, and he’s glad he didn’t have to see that. He’d blocked out every rumour he’d heard about her, and refused her offers of spending time alone any time she had tried to convince him. The thought of her finding someone else to fulfill her needs makes his hands clench, fisting the sheets between his fingers. He could have had his chance, but he’d been too scared of… not of someone finding out, but scared of _her_.

 

Scared to do anything more with a woman that wasn’t a conversation required by his job or sparring during training. He huffs. It’s not as though anything had changed in that regard. He’s still never been out with any of the women that smile at him or flirt when he’s out of the Gallows. He figures they think he’s a fine catch, future Knight-Captain of Kirkwall - they don’t know him well enough to understand that he comes with more baggage than he’s worth. The only person who truly knows everything and doesn’t pity him is Meredith.

 

His stomach begins growling just before sundown, and he gets up from bed with cracking bones and a pain in his back, his joints popping as he puts on his chest plate. He doesn’t bother with much of his armour, wears only the bare necessities as he makes his way to the dining hall the Templars and mages share, almost dragging his feet along the floor. He doesn’t want to make small talk with the others, but he ought the eat something before going to bed or else he’d be up all night, regretting his decision with a stomach ache.

 

“Cullen,” he hears Meredith’s voice call out as he turns a corner. “I was just coming for you. Let’s have dinner in my office.” She’s standing in front of him, her hands resting on her waist as she studies him. With all her armour on she looks imposing, the heels on her shoes making her taller than Cullen. She’s an imposing woman, and he can’t stop himself from feeling small any time he’s around her.

 

Cullen nods when Meredith walks past him, and he has to keep a brisk pace in order to not look like he’s some stray puppy following after her. There are already two treys in her office filled with a bowl for soup, a plate full of roasted chicken, and bread. A water pitcher stands next to two mugs in the middle of the desk. She was planning on him accepting her invitation - he supposes he’s never done anything that goes against her wishes. He takes a seat in front of the desk, carefully placing his feet out of the way so they wouldn’t get in the way of Meredith’s, who’s sitting in front of him. Cullen only starts eating after Meredith raises a spoonful of soup to her mouth.

 

“You lied to me today,” Meredith says just as Cullen is chewing on piece of meat, not able to defend himself immediately without bad table manners. “You didn’t feel unwell of the heat. They were spreading that vile rumour again.”

 

Cullen swallows, sipping his water when his food stays stuck in his throat, coughing before he can answer. “I was feeling unwell because of the heat as well.”

 

If Meredith had less self-control, she would have rolled her eyes. Cullen knows he’s playing a dangerous game, but he doesn’t want her to know just how big of an effect she has on his self-esteem - he’s normally so sure of himself, to the point where the other Templars are annoyed at his self-righteousness.

 

“What is it with that Amell rumour that it seems to stick around no matter how many of my men I punish for spreading it?” Meredith asks, leaning back in her chair and grabbing the armrests. Cullen avoids her eyes, his eyes lingering on where her fingers are wrapped around the sturdy wood of the chair.

 

“Cullen,” she says, and he snaps his head up, looking at her face. “It’s not true, isn’t it?”

 

“No!” He says, then clears his throat. “Of course not. I would never- not with one of my charges- not with a… a _mage_.”

 

“Good. You know what happens to Templars who are found to… _forget_ about their duties.”

 

A shiver runs down Cullen’s spine, the image of him standing on a field somewhere in the Hinterlands flashing before his eyes. He doesn’t want to go back to Ferelden, least of all if it meant being dishonorably discharged. Kirkwall was a gift from the Maker he’s still thankful for.

 

“I intend to follow the rules.”

 

Meredith smiles, nods, and then resumes eating. Cullen’s hands are sweaty, and he carefully wipes them over the fabric of his trousers before drinking more of the water. His mouth is so dry, his tongue feels like sandpaper inside his mouth.

 

“The rules don’t speak against you having relationships outside of the Order,” Meredith says after a while. “I’ve noticed you don’t mingle when off work - that’s not good, you shouldn’t spend all your time locked up in the Gallows.”

 

Cullen wants to snap at her, ask her why she’s so concerned about his private life, but he knows better. “I like to keep to myself.”

 

“You’re a young man, Cullen. Go out and have some fun, once in awhile. It might do you good.”

 

Cullen can’t stop from raising his brows at her. He’s not keen on going to the Hanged Man and getting pass-out drunk, and neither is he one of those men who spend their days off with the girls in the Blooming Rose. He wouldn’t know what to do, once in either establishment; he’s never gotten drunk, and neither has he ever shared a bed with a woman.

 

“It’s not something I… fancy,” Cullen decides to reply, his hunger all but gone as he pushes food around his plate. He should have just stayed in his room, suffered through the night on an empty stomach. It’s better than sitting here and having to explain Meredith why he has an aversion to _fun_. “I don’t need to surround myself with these kinds of activities.”

 

There’s a short silence in the room, then-

 

“Get a girlfriend, Cullen.”  
  
He almost gasps. “What?”

 

“It might stop you from looking after the young, pretty mages when on duty in the Circle.”

 

A blush rushes to Cullen’s cheeks, his whole body feeling hot as he desperately tries to find an excuse. There’s nothing he can say that will change her mind, though - she knows, knows _everything_ , and there’s nothing he can do about it.

 

“Stop lying, and stop lusting after the girls. Maybe they’ll stop gossiping once you don’t crane your neck any time one of them walks by you.”

 

Cullen averts his gaze, his mouth opening slightly. He’s never been this embarrassed before in his life - not even when Solona had made it clear to him that she had been open to… _spending time_ in private with him. The knowledge that Meredith disapproves of him, that there are open flaws she sees in him-

 

He feels the need to apologise, but he doesn’t even know where to begin.

 

“Meredith, I would never- even back in Ferelden I _didn’t_ -”

“Act like it,” Meredith simply says, digging back into her food. All hungers has left Cullen, his stomach in knots as he watches Meredith meticulously cut through skin and bones, piling meat on one side of her plate and waste on the other before finishing. If she notices that he’s not eating, she doesn’t mention it, dismissing him without further words when he leaves for his room.

 

He lies awake practically all night, not able to shake the cold feeling of getting caught doing something naughty, his mind racing a mile a minute. He’ll have to be more careful, stay away from the mages even more so than before - _Maker_ , it’s not like he sought out being around them before. What is he supposed to do, punish those who do wrong harder to show that he doesn’t care about them? If that’s what Meredith wants, he can detach himself even more from basic humanity while on duty. He can be as level-headed as she is, and he’ll prove to her that his loyalty lies with the Templars. He wonders why she’s singling him out and leaves Samson alone, who Cullen had seen fraternising with mages before, talking and smiling while he keeps watch over them. It reminds him of how it had been in the Circle in Ferelden before Uldred’s uprising - the Templars and mages had been on good terms, he’d even suspected some of them of illicit affairs. Maybe that’s why Solona - no, _Amell_ \- had been so forward with him - she’d practically grown up in the Circle, with Templars always around her.

 

A quiet sigh leaves Cullen’s lips as he turns in bed, careful not to make too much noise and wake Samson in the process. He looks up at the ceiling of their shared dorm, the only light coming from outside the reflection of the moons. He thinks about Meredith's words, her orders of finding a girlfriend. He almost snorts. He’s not interested in disappointing the girls in Hightown who watch him and giggle when he does his shopping. He could go for someone in the Order, but he’d have to keep it a secret to not be punished for fraternisation - and there isn’t any girl that had caught his eye, anyway.

 

Anger overtakes him slowly as the shame ebbs away. Who is Meredith to tell him what to do with his life outside of work? She has no control over his personal life, and she should know that it’s not her place to interfere, not when she knows what happened to him back at Kinloch Hold. He needs time to heal before even considering entering a relationship - however casual it might be.

 

The next day is hard, exhaustion pulling on Cullen’s mind and muscles. He doesn’t see Meredith all day, all his resolve of telling her to back off slowly dwindling over the day as he remembers just how _right_ she had been. By the end of the day, he’s back to feeling ashamed and wanting to crawl and beg for Meredith’s mercy, wanting to hear her telling him that she forgives him and that he’s a good Templar, even though he tends to forget his duties sometimes. He’ll do better in the future, he mentally promises himself and Meredith as he walks towards her quarters late in the evening.  He hadn’t seen Meredith at dinner either, and he’d rather apologise and clear up everything between them as soon as possible, before his constant thinking about the situation would affect his performance on the job. There is no nothing good about being on Meredith’s bad side, and Cullen needs to know that she still trusts him to become her Knight-Captain - so far, she’s the only person in Kirkwall he feels like he can actually _talk_ to. He doesn’t want to lose that.

 

It’s a little unorthodox to knock on her private quarters, but he had went by her office and it had been vacant, and he really doesn’t want to wait until tomorrow. He doesn’t think he could take another night of tossing and turning, and he’d certainly annoy Samson if he ends up making too much noise while trying to fall asleep.

 

Cullen jerks back when the door opens, Meredith standing in front of him, out of her armour, clad in only a tunic and loose fitting trousers. Her hair falls loosely to her shoulders, the diadem she usually wears on her head discarded somewhere. Cullen’s never seen her this dressed down before, and he has to gather his thoughts for a few seconds before clearing his throat.

  
“Knight-Commander, I wanted to talk about yesterday’s conversation.”

 

Meredith steps aside, letting him into her room with a wave of her hand. Cullen enters hesitantly, looking around. The room’s decor is held simply, a shield with the Templar sigil the only thing adorning the wall. Other than that there is only a bookcase, a wardrobe, a small table in front of a couch, and Meredith’s bed. It suddenly feels very inappropriate to be inside her chambers - he’s never seen her as a woman before, someone just as human as he is.

 

“I want to assure you again, that my intentions are to serve the Chantry and the Templars without any distractions-”

 

“I know, I know,” Meredith interrupts him, sitting down on the couch. Cullen swallows hard, clenching his fists at his side as he stands still in the middle of her bedroom.

 

“Is there any other reason you came here?” Meredith asks after a while, crossing one leg over the other and staring at him, waiting for an answer.

 

“Well… no. I just wanted to make sure you knew that I-”

 

“I know better than anyone that you’re dedicated to the Order,” Meredith says, and Cullen is really getting tired of her interrupting him. He keeps his mouth shut, waiting for her to deliver the inevitable verbal blow that would have him doubting himself again. “I think you’re the only one of your rank who isn’t abusing his position to bed any half-way attractive woman who expresses interest. Have you taken any vows regarding that?”

 

Cullen splutters. “Vows? Maker, no, never. _Chastity_ vows?” He almost giggles at the thought. He’s never met a Templar who had actually committed to those particular sets of vows - he might not actively take part in their excursions to the Blooming Rose, but he hears plenty at dinner. Enough to know who likes what and how to get it, how much coin to save up for the best _company_. He’s glad the others haven’t caught up to him being a virgin - they all think he’s just too stuck up to visit a brothel.

 

“Good,” Meredith says. “Then come here.”

 

Cullen raises his eyebrows, but steps closer and sits down next to Meredith. He’s just about to open his mouth when she leans forward and brings their lips together, her hand firmly locked behind his head so he can’t pull away. He gasps into the kiss, his body lurching in shock and surprise as her tongue runs or his bottom lip. He can’t help but sigh at the feeling, his eyes closing and his arm raising instinctively to hold onto her waist, feeling over the rough cotton fabric. Her skin is warm beneath it, his fingers gripping her tightly as one of her hands strokes over his neck, her fingers raking through his curls and gently tugging at them until he moves his head and lips against hers.

 

“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Meredith asks after they part with a wet smack, looking at him as if she hadn’t just given him the most intense kiss of his life. Cullen’s face is flushed and he’s hot all over, avoiding Meredith’s eyes as he stares at the floor. The last time someone kissed him, he had been thirteen years old, getting ready to leave Honnleath. It had been a girl he’s had a crush on, daughter of a neighbour, but nothing else had ever come of it.

 

“I… _We_ can’t do _that_ ,” Cullen says, wholly confused by Meredith’s advances. He takes his hand off her waist when he realises he’s still holding her, interlacing his hands and setting them on his knees. He’s glad he’s still wearing his armour and robes - it would hide the obvious evidence that had enjoyed the kiss more than he should.

 

He feels like an overexcited teenager again, getting hard at the smallest glance of one of the female recruits taking off their armour and accidentally baring their midriffs. His mind had drifted more than once during the days of his Templar training, wondering how it would be like to spend the day in the sheets with one of them instead of reciting the Chant of Light together. Meredith isn’t that kind of girl - not a girl at all, a grown woman expressing her interest, if he’s reading her right.

 

“It’s not like I’ll expel you from the order,” Meredith says, her voice steady and devoid of all emotion. “I’m not naive enough to believe that none of the recruits are spending their time together behind closed doors; as long as they’re quiet about it, there’s nothing for me to do. Discretion is key.”  
  
Cullen chews his lip, still not moving from his place on the couch. He’s tempted to just go along with Meredith, let her bed him for the first time to get it over with already, but he also knows it would be stupid of him to taint his relationship with his boss. He needs to keep it professional between them - as professional as they can go back to being after that kiss. _Maker_ , his cock is so hard it’s hurting him as it presses against his small clothes.

 

“I should go,” Cullen decides, getting up from his seat and walking to the door without looking back. He lingers in  front of the door for just a few seconds, waiting for Meredith to call him back, but walks out when she doesn’t speak up. The walk back to his dorm is brisk, and he tries to school his face into a neutral expression before stepping in, aware that Samson would ask questions if something was visibly troubling him. He succeeds, at least well enough for Samson to only raise his eyebrows tiredly at him before coming to the conclusion that talking about it is more of a bother than it is worth. Cullen is grateful - Samson and he try their best to stay out of each other's way when inside their shared room.

 

He gets ready for bed, Samson already turned in and dozing off as Cullen is still taking off his armour, neatly stacking it on the rack next to his bed before slipping beneath his sheets as well. He knows he won’t find any sleep tonight either, his cock still half hard between his legs as the memory of Meredith’s lips return to his mind, the feeling of what little he had touched of her body. Cullen presses his lips together when he feels his cock jerk inside his small clothes, trying to keep his breathing even as he presses his face into the pillow. He can’t relieve himself, not with Samson in the room - even if he was asleep, Cullen would not feel comfortable doing it with someone else in the room.

 

He suffers through the night again, sleeping for a few minutes at a time before being woken up by dreams of Meredith, seducing him in ways that make him blush from the tips of his ears down to his chest. In the fade, she does things to him he can honestly not ever see her degrading herself to - he doesn’t think Meredith would ever get on her knees except to pray.

 

Pray. Maybe that’s what he should be doing instead of fantasising about his boss on her knees in front of him, worshipping Cullen instead of the Maker.

 

He does spend some time in the Chantry the next day, reciting his favourite verse. Thrask nods and smiles at him as Cullen gets on one knee and bring his hands together, leaving when he notices Cullen is uncomfortable with being watched. He doesn’t have anything against Thrask per se, but Cullen knows Meredith doesn’t like him. He’s too soft on the mages, just like Samson is. Just like she fears Cullen would be. Cullen spares him a nod.

 

“ _Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter_ ,” Cullen whispers, averting his eyes from the statue of Andraste he is kneeling before, _“blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just.”_

 

He’s always felt closer to the Maker when on his knees with his gaze turned towards the ground, but even this doesn’t seem to help him today. He recites a few more verses, the ones he knows by heart, drilled into his mind during the years of his training. Even before his training he had held a tight clutch on his religion - belonging to the Templars had only further cemented his faith. He knows most of the others had been bored studying the Chant of Light, but Cullen still remembers the first time he had held a full script in his hands, for him to read and keep close. He’d been overjoyed, reading even outside his classes.

 

It had been an easier time.

 

Cullen sighs, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off his robes. This hadn’t helped at all, the image of Meredith’s nude body arching beneath his own still playing out in front of his eyes even when they are open. He leaves the Chantry, feeling like a sinner for thinking such things within the walls of the Maker.

 

Although he feels shame and guilt, he ends up in front of Meredith’s quarters again that evening, hesitantly knocking. He’s not wearing his armour today, feeling foolish and afraid Meredith would think that he’s expecting something to _happen_ between them. He doesn’t really know what he wants, if he’s being honest; half of him wants to turn around and resist temptation, and the other cannot stop thinking about how it would be like to spend the night in her bed. He assuages his mind by telling himself that she’s the one who started it all, telling him to get a girl and then practically climbing into his lap the day after. Even someone as devout to the Order as him could falter, given the right enticements.

 

“Cullen,” Meredith nods at him and steps aside right away, letting him into her room once again. He hears the lock click behind him, the hairs in his neck rising up when he realises that Meredith knows exactly why he’s here. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  
It’s a lie, and she knows that he knows. There is a fire going in the furnace, heating the cold stone walls of her quarters, and two mugs are standing on her table. Cullen clears his throat, not knowing what to say. He jumps when Meredith’s hand touches his elbow as she walks by him. She’s just slightly smaller than him when she’s not wearing her heels, he notices. He still feels intimidated.

 

Cullen’s wracking his brain for something to say as Meredith fills one glass with liquid from a pitcher, but it’s as though the place in his head where a brain should be is vacant. All he can do is look at her body, clad in simple, practical robes. She has more muscles than the girls he’d thought about before, her arms and legs looking the way they should with her wearing a full plate armour every day - he shouldn’t be surprised, he’d seen her wield swords bigger than the ones he prefers without any problems.

 

“Cullen.”

 

“Hm?” His voice cracks, and he has to clear his throat, thanking Meredith as she hands him the glass. It’s wine, bitter and dry, and Cullen has to keep himself from pulling a face. He’s never been a fan, had always enjoyed Fereldan ale more than the imported Antivan wines they had sometimes smuggled into their dorms during his Templar training, but he doesn’t dare to complain.

 

Meredith motions to the couch, and Cullen sits down just like the day before, waiting for Meredith to make the first move. She stands on the other side of the table, studying him as she drinks from her own mug. He’s never seen her drink alcohol, but he’s never seen her do anything except her job.

 

“How do you want to do this?” Meredith asks, and Cullen only stammers in response. He hadn’t thought she would be this direct, had hoped he would somehow find himself above her without actually having to go through the motions of _seducing_ her. Though he thinks he doesn’t need to bother at all with the seducing; Meredith seems more than willing to help him out.

 

“How about this,” Meredith says, putting down her mug before standing up straight again. Cullen averts his gaze, a blush rising to his cheeks when she takes off her tunic, baring her torso to him. He can’t stop himself from letting his eyes dart to her body a few times though, taking in in the small glimpses of her breasts and the visible muscles on her stomach. There are a few scars here and there, but nothing big, smooth, pale skin stretching tightly across her body. He’s already hard, and he hasn’t even gotten a proper look yet.

 

He gathers every little ounce of bravery he has inside of him and finally turns up his head, pressing his lips together as his eyes wander over Meredith’s bared body. She’s unfastening the ties on her trousers already, pushing them down after they’re loosened, her small clothes following soon after. Cullen’s mouth is dry as he looks at her groin, blonde curls a shade darker than the hair on her head hiding what lies beneath. He wants to lean forward, reach out and spread her with his fingers so he can see, but his body won’t move - and he wouldn’t do anything without Meredith telling him to, anyway.

 

Cullen darts his tongue out, wetting his lips, and leans back into the couch when Meredith begins walking towards him, stopping when her shins touch his knees. Cullen swallows, keeping his eyes fixed on her face until she raises her arms.

 

“Give me your hands,” she says, holding out her own. Her hands are warm and dry, not clammy like his, and he feels even more self-conscious than before. Meredith doesn’t react to it at least, placing his hands on her hips and making him squeezer her flesh. Cullen’s cock jerks inside his trousers, and quick look between his legs confirms that his bulge is rather obvious, an outline showing down the inside of his right thigh.

 

“Touch me,” Meredith orders, and Cullen snaps his head back up, looking at her crotch in front of his eyes. He’s just about to trail his fingers down when she talks his hands in hers again and brings them up to her chest. “Here.”

 

Cullen blushes, wondering if he’d been too forward with thinking she would want him to touch between her legs; the thought leaves his brain when he realises how soft her breasts are, fitting perfectly in his palms. He squeezes gently, his mouth opening when his thumb brushes over a nipple. He does it again, until it stands up as hard nub, and Meredith’s hands, still holding his, trail down his arms, pushing back the sleeves of his tunic. It makes the hair on his body stand up, being touched this gently and intimately.

  


He almost feels giddy when Meredith rests one of her naked legs onto the couch, baring herself to him. His face is so close to her crotch that he can see everything, short curls and pink flesh hidden beneath it - he’s heard enough from the recruits to know he should be kissing her there if he wants her to feel good, but he’s not sure she wants him to do that. He looks up at her, trying to figure out from her face what he should be doing, but if anything, her slight smirk only unsettles him further. She moves her hands again, putting them over his, and pushes them down towards her groin until his fingers are touching her folds. Cullen breathes out heavily, shifting where he’s sitting so his cock lies more comfortably against his leg, staring at her cunt and not daring to look anywhere else. He spreads her with his thumbs, bringing his face closer to her, and when she doesn’t protest he darts his tongue out, licking over her for a split second.

 

The little sigh that escapes her mouth is all the encouragement he needs, pressing his lips against her pussy and letting his tongue travel all over, not sure what exactly he should be doing - the other man had never gone into detail, only talked about lick and kissing until the women were wet enough to take them inside. Meredith isn’t wet, he thinks - though he doesn’t know how wet women could become. The others had talked about dripping cunts, but he’s not sure just how much of their stories had been exaggerations. There’s some moisture, and he knows it’s not only his saliva by the taste and smell of it, but it’s not as much as he thought there would be.

 

He’s just about to slip his tongue into what he thinks might be her hole (his eyes are closed, and he’s too shy to open them and see her so close) when she puts her hands on his neck, gently pushing him away. Cullen licks over his lips and then over the roof his mouth, tasting what’s left of her fluids as she massages the tense muscles of his shoulders. He groans when Meredith reaches between her legs, pushing one of his fingers inside her alongside one of her own, making him feel how hot and wet she is inside. His cock jerks, and he can feel pre-come trickle out and down his thigh before getting soaked up by his trousers.

 

Cullen whines when Meredith steps away, their fingers sliding out of her pussy. He watches her as she walks over to her bed, looking over her shoulder when she realises he’s not following her - he’s at her side in a split second when she arches her eyebrows at him. Meredith lies down on the bed, propped up on her elbows, spreads legs dangling over the edge. Cullen doesn’t know anything about pleasing a woman except the things he had just done to her before, so he gets down, kneeling on the floor with his head between Meredith’s thighs. When he looks up at her face from between them, she looks just like the statue he was praying in front of a few hours ago.

 

With trembling hands, Cullen reaches to her cunt, spreading her again so he can look and lick over her better, his tongue licking around the hole his finger had been inside of, and in a fit of scared yet excited eagerness he pushes two of them inside her, moving them in and out slowly. He listens and watches her face to find out what she likes best, rubbing his tongue over her in circles until her hands on his head stop him.

 

“Take off your clothes,” Meredith says, repositioning herself on the bed so her legs are on it as well, lying on her side and watching Cullen. He stands up slowly, his knees popping from being on the hard, stone ground. His fingers shake as he raises the tunic over his head, letting it fall on the floor before he fumbles with the laces on his trousers. He pushes them down, almost stumbling over his feet when he realises he forgot to take off his boots first - he feels so clumsy, stripping down for Meredith who had seemed so sure of herself, so sexy when she had undressed.

 

With one last glance at Meredith’s face, her nodding at him in support, he pushes down his smalls, his cock springing free and slapping up against his belly, he’s so hard. He’s never felt self-conscious about his size; changing in front of and sharing a bath house with the other recruits had made sure he had lost all shame long ago, but it’s something different when it’s Meredith looking at him. She doesn’t hide the fact that she’s looking at his groin, staring at his cock, leaking at the tip, and his balls, tight and drawn up against his body already.

 

He climbs onto the bed next to her, his muscles quivering in anticipation. Meredith positions him on his back, turning so she’s lying half on top of him before she kisses him again, her tongue parting his lips and slipping inside his mouth. Cullen moans when her leg brushes against his dick, the soft part of her inner thigh nestling against it as their tongues push against each other. He raises his arms and wraps them around her torso, pulling her close. Her breasts are squished against his flat chest, and Cullen feels foolish for wanting to touch them again - he’s always averted his gaze when the female recruits or the mages in the Circle had worn low cut necklines, never allowed himself to stare like some of his friends had. He’s had his weak moments, of course, but he’s fairly sure none of the girls had ever seen him leer at them.

 

Then he remembers Meredith’s words, the fact that even she had realised he was staring, sometimes, and it makes him squirm beneath her, still ashamed that she had found out.

 

Meredith parts from him when she feels him move, climbing fully on top of him and scooting up towards the end of the bed where Cullen’s head is resting. He wets his lips when Meredith settles her cunt over his mouth, her legs on either side of his head as she lowers herself down until her groin is settled on top of his face. All he can smell and taste is _her_ , and he puts his hands on her hips to pull her down even farther. She sighs when his tongue moves in circles over the little nub he had found earlier, so he keeps at it, putting more and more pressure onto it when Meredith presses down as well. Cullen has to swallow a few times, his mouth filling with her fluids and his saliva, running down the back of his throat because of their position. He nudges the little nub that seems to bring Meredith the most pleasure with the tip of his tongue, making her thighs quiver and her hips rock downwards.

 

A hand grabs Cullen’s curls roughly and pulls him up roughly, and it’s only when Meredith groans out that Cullen realises that she must be coming. It makes him moan against her, pressing his tongue even harder as he moves it up and down, sliding into her hole before moving back up, keeping at it until Meredith pushes his head back into the pillow, sliding off his face and bringing her own hand to her pussy. He watches as she rubs over herself, pushing two fingers inside and pulling them out to make Cullen lick them clean. He closes his eyes when she pushes them into his mouth, sucking on them and letting his tongue run between them to clean them off completely. He’s good at following orders, even the ones unspoken.

 

She pulls out her fingers when she slides down his body, and Cullen bites his lip when her hips are positioned above his, one of her hands on his chest and the other grabbing his cock. With his hands on her hips he stops her for a second, just as the tip of his cock brushes against her cunt, the sensitive head pushing between her folds. It takes a lot of willpower to look away from where their bodies are about to be joined, but he has to look at her face, has to know that Meredith wants this as much as he does. And Maker, does he want it - he’s aching for it, his cock jerking in the loose hold Meredith has around him.

 

“You’re not changing your mind now, are you?” Meredith asks, furrowing her brows, her hand stroking up and down Cullen’s cock, pulling back his foreskin before running her thumb over the tip. Cullen’s legs flex and his back arches, pushing his cock against her pussy again. “Thought so.”

 

Cullen can’t stop himself from moaning when Meredith finally lets him slip inside, drawing his legs up and almost pushing her off him with the movement. He holds onto her waist, his fingers digging into her flesh. He must be hurting her with how hard he’s grabbing, the skin around the tips of his fingers turning white from the pressure. When she sinks deeper, he tries to relax his fingers, digging his toes into the mattress below instead - he can’t help it, it feels so warm and tight around his cock, some of her wetness dripping down his shaft and over his balls. It’s nothing like had imagined it being like - he didn’t have anything to go off on before except the tales of his friends and the feeling of his own hand.

 

When Meredith’s body rests against his hip bones, his cock all the way inside of her, he allows himself to let his hands travel over her again, trying to distract himself from the feeling of her cunt. His cock is jerking inside of her already, and he doesn’t want it to be over so quickly. He touches her breasts again, not daring to look at her face as he strokes over her nipples until they harden under his fingers, hard, little pebbles he would love to let his tongue run over. He touches her waist again when Meredith begins moving, rocking back and forth on him slightly. Cullen spreads his legs a little wider, positioning himself so he can feel her even closer to his body, closing his eyes and letting his head sink even further into the mattress when Meredith begins bouncing up and down on his cock, her hands on his chest so she has something to hold onto.

 

“ _Meredith_ ,” Cullen moans, looking her in the eyes for the first time since she crawled on top of him, icy blue staring back at soft hazel. His breath hitches when Meredith touches herself between her legs, her eyes closing and lips parting in a soft moan, and that’s all it takes for him to thrust his hips up into her in a frenzy, chasing his release. Meredith makes a surprised noise, readjusting herself as Cullen fucks into her from below, holding her hips in a vice like grip, tighter and tighter the closer he gets to coming.

 

He’s just about to spill when Meredith sits up, his cock falling out of her. Cullen makes a sound halfway between a sob and a gasp - he’d been so _close_ , his balls tight and his cock pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat. He cries out when Meredith’s palm closes around him again, jerking him off, her other hand stroking over his balls. Cullen bites his lip, touching Meredith between her legs again, rubbing over the little nub with his thumb while pushing two of his fingers inside of her. He comes when he feels her clenching around him, spilling all over Meredith’s fingers and dripping onto his own abdomen, up to his chest. Meredith strokes him through it, only stopping when his cock starts softening and shrinking in her hand.

 

He watches as she gets up from the bed and grabs for a towel, wiping off her hands before throwing it onto the bed, next to him. He takes the hint and cleans himself off, the blush he had before forming on his cheeks again. He can’t believe he had done _that_ \- lost his virginity to Meredith, his Knight-Commander, a woman so stoic and untouchable he hadn’t thought of her as human before. Cullen desperately hopes that this won’t be the only time she’ll allow him into her bed. He doesn’t feel much different, still doesn’t have the need to go out to the whore-house and get himself a girl. He doesn’t think he can do this with anyone who isn’t _Meredith_ , if he’s being honest.

 

When he looks up after cleaning, Meredith is staring at him, her arms crossed in front of her. She’s wearing clothes again, and Cullen feels the urge to cover himself up with the towel in his hands. He also feels foolish, for thinking she would come back to bed and even _hold_ him, or something like that - Meredith is neither his girlfriend, nor did he pay her. In fact, he feels more like the used party in this.

 

Cullen scrambles off the bed, dressing himself in record time. His legs are still wobbly from his orgasm, his cock sensitive when he puts on his small clothes and the fabric brushes against the still moist skin. Meredith’s gaze is hot on his neck, and he feels like a little boy when he stumbles while trying to lace up his boots.

 

“Cullen,” Meredith says when he starts walking towards the door, ready to flee the scene and hide away in his bed, praying to the Maker that Samson was already asleep.

 

“Hm?” He turns slightly, staring at the floor instead of Meredith. He only looks up when she walks towards him and puts her hands on his shoulders again, stroking her thumbs over his neck. She kisses him again, softer this time, without pushing her tongue into his mouth, just their lips moving against each other.

 

“You did well,” she says, and Cullen can’t help but feel proud. Meredith’s praise always has that effect on him - makes him feel then times taller than he actually is, like his work means something in the grand scale of things. He smiles, still not looking at her directly, and nods before turning around and leaving her alone.

 

He practically struts down the hallway back into his dorm, glad it’s late enough nobody would see him. The Templar quarters are not guarded at night, the few poor soul’s who had the night shift spread thin in the mage’s part of the Circle. It also means nobody would have heard Meredith and him, and that thought makes him grin again. A secret, shared just between the two of them, with nobody else privy to the information. In just a few, short months he’d take over the position of Knight-Captain of Kirkwall, second in command to Meredith, her closest advisor.

 

He’s doing something with his life, moving up in the world after being so utterly defeated just over a year ago, when he thought that death would be a kindness the Maker didn’t spare him with.

  
Meredith gave him a chance, and he’s not about to disappoint her.


End file.
